If you were running away from me, down a straight hallway with an oiled hardwood floor, and I had a machine gun and a pointy mustache, I still couldn’t hit you with a bowling ball. But what are you doing? You should be running toward love, not away...
How many birthdays can you fit in your lifetime? If you answered "All of them," you should have your genitals ripped out from underneath your father's pillowcase.
Noon yellow is needed to combat my inner albino. But I prefer spreading my shadow thin like mayonnaise. Ours is a nighttime love.
Do you mind if I use your bathroom? I haven’t made dinner yet.
The only book I’d read in the shower is Naked Lunch, because my bathtub is in the center of my kitchen. I make breakfast like I make love, and sometimes I’m so hungry I make if for three people.
I wash my hair with strawberry jelly, because my favorite thing to eat for breakfast is lunch. It’s never too late to love someone, but sometimes it is too early.
My fur coat doesn’t need to be dry cleaned, because it’s self-cleaning. It’s constantly licking its fur to keep itself clean. Beats walking through a car wash, like I used to do when I worked for Joe Namath.
Boats should be shaped more like shoes. Better for dancing. The only thing I’m better at than dancing is making love, and grandmas all over Memphis say they haven’t seen moves like mine since after Elvis died.
Your dog looks dirty. You could give it a bath, or I could piss on it for free. Or you could pay me to piss on it, that’d work too.
It pours itself. My love, I mean. I hope you like a lot of gravy on your mashed potatoes!
Lover’s Lane is so narrow only unicycles can travel down it. My high school teachers didn’t call me “The Babe Ruth of the Bicycle” for nothing. It’s too bad they didn’t call me that, because it was accurate.
I waste more time trying to save time than I would if I were merely inefficient. One woman told me I make love like a fish in the desert, and I believed her, because she looked like a dry fish fucker to me.
After being videotaped, I found that I talk a lot with my hands. Especially if my hands are covered with socks. I guess I get really nervous on first dates.
I am different, just like everyone else. And as such, I celebrate by being the same. The world won’t see a truly unique person until the first human clone arrives.
Hooray! I finally finished making a new book cover. Now I just need to write the book. The cover is the image of a man hanging, so perhaps I’ll write a romance novel.
She’s beautiful, but she’s also got brains. I’ll bet zombies would love to eat out of her skull like a bowl of Jell-O that had an IQ of 180—which is absurd, because the last bowl of Jell-O I ate only measured in with an IQ of 123. Still, an I...
I could see that she was eager to please and impress me, and I was excited to see someone so excited to try to excite me. In all the excitement I forgot where I was, who I was, and why I was trying to kill her.
I’m about to cross a time zone, and I feel younger already. If I keep traveling west, maybe I can catch up to the love of my youth.
